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Message-ID: <35526asstr$1015287005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Elliot Mabeuse <dr_mabeuse@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} A Visit From The Doctor (MF, BD, whip, reluc)
Date: Mon,  4 Mar 2002 19:10:06 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


The following story (attached as MSWord file) contains
strong language and graphical descriptions of sexual
acts and should not be read by those who find such
material offensive or disturbing. It is intended for
adult readers over the age of 18 who are able to
distinguish fantasy from reality and its availability
should be confined to those communities where such
material is allowed.
All names and situations in the following stroy are
fictional and imaginary, and the piece itself is the
author's fantasy and is not a description of real
events in the real world.
Comments, criticism, and suggestions by sympathetic
parties is encouraged and should be sent to
<dr_mabeuse@yahoo.com>.
All material is copywrited by dr_mabeuse.

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<1st attachment, "A Visit from the Doctor.doc" begin>

A Visit from the Doctor

   by Dr.  Mabeuse

   <dr_mabeuse@yahoo.com>



   You ask me what a visit from the Doctor is like.  Perhaps I can describe
it.

   Let's say someone were to come up behind you one dreary Monday night
while you were home alone.  You're bored, restless.  Perhaps you're idly
making a pot of tea, perhaps you're watching TV in your underwear, your
mind elsewhere.  Suppse they were to suddenly grab your wrists and tie them
behind your back before you knew what was happening, then fasten a
blindfold over your eyes, a ball gag in your mouth, and push you back down
on the couch.

   Frightened, confused, you hear a low voice perhaps say "Now, you
gorgeous little slut!  You've been teasing me and leading me on long
enough, and now you're going to pay!  The door's locked, the windows are
closed, and there's no one here but you and the Doctor..."

   You feel hands on your body, hands encased in soft leather gloves.  They
roughly turn you over, and tie your elbows together behind your back with
soft, silky rope, but so tight that your breasts are thrust out
prominently. Other straps follow, binding your ankles together, and your
knees, till now you're totally helpless, bound hand and foot and laying on
the couch, awaiting the next touch...

   The Doctor!  You remember him now, that imposing man with the back beard
and the burning eyes that you spoke to at that party.  But what's he doing
here?  How did he find your house, and why is he doing these things to you,
things that frighten you but feel so incredibly right?

   He turns you over gently onto your stomach and you feel those
leather-clad fingers at the clasp of your bra, opening it, and slipping it
down your arms, away from your breasts.  He begins to run those hands
lovingly up and down your back, over your bound arms, under your body to
caress your breasts.  As his hands work over your helpless body, you hear
that low, hypnotic voice in your ear, almost scary in its erotic intensity.

   "Does that feel good, my Dear?  I know it does.  Do you feel like I know
everything you're thinking?  Like I know your every thought?  Well...  I
do! I know all your thoughts and desires, and that's why I've come.  I know
everything you want, things you yourself would never even admit to.  And
tonight I'm going to introduce you to a side of yourself you've never met!"

   As he speaks he runs his gloved hands down your back, and you feel goose
bumps cover your breasts and the backs of your arms.  You try to squirm
away, but your hands remain tied behind your back, your legs tied closed
together.  You're helpless beneath his lewd ministrations.

   "You know, the Doctor has a lot in common with the creatures you call
vampires!  Oh, no, Dear, don't worry.  I am not one of them, no, my blood
runs hot, not cold.  But, like a vampire, I do not go where I'm not wanted!
And you called me here to you, my Pet.  Some part of you begged for me to
come to you tonight.  And anything I shall do to you tonight is no more
than what you asked for, what you secretly want in the depths of your
heart!"

   You try to speak, try to tell him that he's got the wrong place, the
wrong girl, but the gag in your mouth makes it impossible.  Your hands and
arms, your ankles and knees, are bound so tightly, that all you can do to
try and twist away from his searching, violating hands

   Then his lips are at the back of your neck, so soft, like a butterfly's
wings as they kiss tenderly, teasingly.  The sensation makes your nipples
suddenly bloom and stiffen, and, as if sensing this, his arms snake around
your body and his hands enclose your breasts and begin to massage them
gently.  As his kisses grow more passionate and he bites gently at the nape
of your neck, he suddenly bears down, squeezing those sensitive buds
between his fingers and making you cry out against the gag as a mixture of
pain mixed with the most delicious pleasure shoots through your body

   "Now, let us begin." He whispers

   His hands leave your body, and his lips too, and for a moment you feel
all alone, bound and gagged, blindfolded like some terrorist' hostage,
helpless to resist or defend yourself.  You strain your ears to hear what
he's doing, but you hear nothing but your excited pulse beating in your
ears, your hot breath .  You feel yourself starting to moisten with
anticipation, and the thought races through your mind What the hell's wrong
with me?  I'm about to be raped by a maniac I don't even know and I'm
lubricating like some common whore!

   You hear the sound of something swish wickedly through the air above
you**2014**some sort of whip!.  It sounds as if he's warming up.  Then you
hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down.  His voice is
hardly more than a whisper, "Ahhh!  That's better!  You bitch, you've got
me so hard that I hurt!"

   Then you feel his hands at your hips, pulling your panties down.  No! 
Oh, God!  What's he doing?  You try to resist, but what can you do?  As he
lifts the flimsy garment over the globes of your ass, and pulls them slowly
down your thighs, you're embarrassed to feel that the crotch of your
panties is wet with your own secretions.  The feel of air on your most
private place only increases your excitement.

   He laughs wickedly.  "Dear me," he whispers, his hot breath in your ear,
"Is my little darling excited?  She's wet enough to be fucked right now,
isn't she?  Wet enough for my big cock to slide right into her, and I'll
bet she'd like that, too!  Slut!"

   But instead of the feel of his tool prodding between your legs you hear
a sharp smack, and it takes you an unbelieving moment to realize he's just
brought that nasty whip down across your naked ass!  And it hurts!

   Whap!  Smack!  The cat finds its mark twice more, not hard enough to
cut, but hard enough to sting.  You don't know whether it's the pain or the
humiliation of being treated like this that brings tears to your eyes, but
you fight them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you
cry.

   No one's ever treated you this way before!  Not your father, not your
mother, no one's ever laid a hand on you in anger, but now some stranger
you'd met only once at a party once is standing there whipping your naked
ass as you writhe on the sofa in your own house.  This is insane!

   Yet with tears in your silk-covered eyes and the ball gag forcing your
mouth open in a silent scream, you admit to yourself that you deserve it!
You know you deserve it; you are a tease and a flirt and like parading
yourself in front of the boys, knowing you can make them want you just by
the way you move your hips or push out your big tits.  But if they ever try
to put a move on you, you know you can just bump them off, pretending to be
shocked by their dirty minds.  Hands off, boys!  you'd say, show a lady
some respect!  I'm not some two-dollar whore!

   But wasn't that exactly what you were?  A cock-hungry, prick-teasing
slut, playing with the boys, but looking for someone who wouldn't put up
with your games.  Someone who would stand up to you and put you in your
place and make you do all the things you really wanted to do, but were too
proud to ask for.

   And, now, somehow, this son of a bitch has found you out, and was giving
you exactly what you wanted and knew you deserved.  And you love it.  You
only wish he would beat you harder for being the whore you know you are.

   "Mmph!  Mmm!" you moan as the cat comes down again, bringing a pain that
feels so good!  And as you try to escape the stinging lash by burrowing
your hips into the cushions of the sofa, you're aware of another sensation
lurking beneath the pain, an aching need that's building inside you like a
maddening itch.  An itch you try and scratch by clenching your thighs and
rubbing yourself against the rough fabric of the sofa, but you can't quite
make contact with the ache between your legs, and all your humping does
nothing to bring you relief.

   Splat!  Whack!  You're aware that your buttocks are bouncing and
jiggling with each mad stroke of the lash.  You can't stop groaning, can't
stop from twisting your hips this way and that in a desperate attempt to
escape.  Your humiliation is total now, and you surrender to it, tears
wetting your blindfold, spittle leaking from the corners of your mouth.

   And then, in the middle of this nightmare, he stops, leaving your behind
burning and hot for more.

   Instead you feel something very soft press against your buttocks, first
one cheek then the other.  Something warm and soft and hard that leaves a
sticky trail as moves.  Oh, my God!  You think to yourself, torn between
fear and desire.

   You hold perfectly still, trying to feel every sensation.  You hear his
heavy breathing as he admires the result of his whipping, running he gloved
hands over your burning ass cheeks.  The hurt you feel as he squeezes each
buttock melts directly into the pit of need in your pussy, but all you can
do is wait expectantly for what comes next.

   Then his hands are at your thighs, removing the constricting strap.  He
rolls your panties down to your knees, and his strong hands easily rip them
from your body, freeing your legs, though your ankles are still tied
together.  Like the hungry horny slut that you are, you draw your knees up
slightly and thrust your raw, burning rump up in a lewd invitation, half
out of your mind with lust.  Your heart begins to hammer as you feel the
sofa cushions sag under his weight as he climbs on and positions himself
between your spread thighs.

   He places one hand on your hip, and you feel that same warm hardness,
silky smooth against your dripping wet and tender sex.  Then with an
excruciating slowness, he pushes forward into you, as his strong hands pull
your hips back, impaling you on his rampant member.  It feels so fucking
good you think you might pass out.  You scream against the gag and feel the
thrill of an orgasm rip though your quaking flesh.  But he takes no notice,
intent on watching his long, thick cock sink into your trembling body.

   His breath hisses from between his teeth in pleasure.  As hot as your
ass is from the whipping, his cock feels hotter, and he sinks into you like
a hot knife through butter, slowly, slowly, until you feel his balls
tickling against your hypersensitive clit.  The fingers on your securely
bound hands clench and then spread wide, trying to feel him, to communicate
how fucking good he feels inside you, but you cannot reach him.  All you
can do is grunt against the gag stuffed in your mouth.

   It doesn't matter.  He reads you like an open book, and he can feel your
pleasure in the gripping spasms that run the length of your dick-filled
sheath, in the trembling of your aching buttocks where they press against
his groin, in the ragged moans that escape from around the ball gag.

   For the longest time he doesn't move, allowing you to enjoy the hard
fullness of him inside you.  Then he pulls back a bit, and pushes into you
again, hard, making you see explosions of light behind your eyelids.  You
wiggle your ass slightly to encourage him, and he complies, pulling out
farther this time, before shoving back into you.

   Now he's fucking you, riding into you with long steady strokes that have
you grunting and moaning like a bitch dog in heat, and with his strong
hands on your hips he guides your ass up and back the length of his pole.
With every thrust his cum-swollen balls smack wetly against your swollen
clit giving you pleasure you've never known before.  You realize that this
bastard is going to make you come again, this time a big one, an
earth-mover, a screaming, black-out orgasm.  You can feel the pressure
growing in your womb and tingling through your clit, down the backs of your
legs, up into your swollen breasts.

   Oh God!  You're already so close!  But you don't want to give him the
satisfaction of seeing you lose your fucking mind on his cock, seeing you
reduced to a mindless cock-loving animal, so you try to fight it off.  You
try not to hear his grunts of pleasure as he rams into you again and again,
each thrust filling you with hot, illicit pleasure.  You try to resist,
try, but you can't.

   Again, like a mind-reader who senses your sudden reluctance to let go,
his hands leave your hips, and while he continues to fuck you from behind,
one hand slides up beneath you to massage an aching breast, the other moves
around and you feel his leather-clad fingers probing at your dripping
pussy. He pushes two fingers down the top of your pussy till they lie on
either side of the hood of your clit, and he squeezes softly, just enough
to increase the friction against that sensitive organ caused by his thick
tool as it pumps in and out.

   Juice is pouring from your hot pussy and saliva leaking from the corners
of your mouth.  Your eyes roll up into your head as you cling to sanity by
your very fingernails.  Visions of spurting cocks and rivers of gism dance
in your mind.

   He lays his sweating, working body against your back so he can whisper
in your ear.  "Come on baby, move that ass!  Move it!  I'm getting close,
baby!  Close to shooting my load into your fucking cunt, and I want you to
come when I do!  You got that, whore?  You hear me, you gorgeous fucking
slut?  Don't fight me, baby!  You know you want to come!  I'm gonna make
you come if I have to fuck you and beat your ass all night long!  So come,
bitch!  Come for me now!"

   It's the hand on your breast that finally sets you off, as he suddenly
pinches your sensitive nipple, sending a sharp bolt of pain down to the pit
of your stomach where it touches off a chain reaction in your pussy and
your screaming clit.  Your whole body lights up like a pinball machine as
you hover trembling on the brink of ecstasy, and he holds you there for
what seems the longest time as thrills shoot through your limbs.  You hear
a muffled scream from somewhere, and dimly realize that it's you.

   And then he pushes deep, deep into you and freezes, stretching your
spasming lips tightly around the wide invading base of his massive tool. 
You feel him tremble, groaning against you, and with the final overwhelming
sensation of his hot cum spurting into you, you let go, rushing down that
impossibly steep slope into the glowing ocean of orgasm, down, down, into
the heights of heaven in a maelstrom of quaking, shaking, exploding across
the sky like a rocket trailing sparks of red and green and gold across the
vault of your mind.

   Vaguely, you're aware of his molten semen jetting into you and
splattering thickly against the walls of your womb.  Each spurt like a
punch of pure pleasure to your body, till at last he stops thrusting, and
you feel the rest of his seed just seem to pour into you.

   Then he's done.  You let your hips collapse onto the sofa, not even
knowing that you had raised them in an instinctive response to his spewing
cock.  His deflating member slips out of you reluctantly as he rises the
weight of his body from yours, trailing warm streamers of semen across the
back of your thighs.  You're now aware of the dull soreness in your
buttocks from the whipping, and when you try to bring your legs together to
put yourself in a more demure and ladylike pose, you find that your legs
will not move, but are still trembling in the delicious after-glow of that
mind-blowing come, a glow that envelops you in a hazy cloud of total
satisfaction and peace.

   You feel him get off the couch, and after a moment his fingers, without
the gloves now, are working to remove the gag and blindfold, then the ropes
that bind your arms, wrists, and ankles.  So that now you're free--but
unable**2014**to move.

   With your ankles free, one foot drops heavily to the floor; you don't
have the strength to stop it.  You try not to groan as you feel his seed
begin to seep from your overfilled pussy, running warm over your labia and
clit to dribble onto the sofa below.

   You hear the sound of a zipper as he puts his pants on, but, again, you
can't even summon the strength to turn and look at him.  You want him
again. You want him in your cunt and your mouth and your ass.  You want him
to tie you tight and beat you and fuck you all night long till you're
filled with his gism.

   You want to tell him.  You want to say something but you're too weak,
and too filled with shame.  He saw you as you really are.  He knows you,
the real you.  So instead you let yourself sink back into the fading
pleasure of your orgasm, visible in your mind's eye as a dwindling pool
under a midnight sky, and soon surrender to satiated sleep.

   When you awaken almost an hour later, he's gone.  All you're left with
is your torn panties, some scraps of rope, the juice dripping from your
pussy, and the deep, satisfying ache in your butt; an ache you'll treasure
until the next time he comes.



   **a9**Dr.  Mabeuse 3/4/2002

   <dr_mabeuse@yahoo.com>







   
<1st attachment end>


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